


Stardust

by asterspire



Category: Original Fiction - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterspire/pseuds/asterspire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a society that boasts the crossroads of magic and technology, a young girl with an aptitude for being in the wrong place at the wrong time struggles to find her way amidst friend and foe alike.</p><p>Alternatively, after a spectacularly bad display at a prestigious Academy invite party, Madeline finds it a chore simply to find an ally that does not want to spill her secrets nor her blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stardust

Many moons pass before Madeline sees her hometown again.

As far as civilizations go, her hometown isn’t nearly as impressive as the overarching skyscrapers of Aether, or even the holographic paradox of the neighboring Illusio.  
But she has never been vain, and thinks fondly upon the sight of her home from the local sky elevators-which, from that height, appear to be nothing more than a trail of glittering lights augmented by a gentle glow from the Watchtower.

She had only been eight years old and clad in a sleeveless sundress when her mother had seen her off for her first rotation.

The memory of parting is a vague one, save for the obvious jealousy of her brother- well founded, considering the fact that they were supposed to leave at the same time once they turned eleven, had Madeline’s stellar grades not qualified her for an early trip- and the incessant questioning of her mom. Yes, she would always stay with the group. Yes, she would remember to call home every day.

Once the questioning had died down, and her mom had gone unusually silent, Madeline felt a small pang of guilt for leaving. But she’d known this opportunity was a rare one, and that her family knew it was in their best interests for her to go. She began to offer a half-hearted goodbye as she stepped closer to the Portal while trying to ignore the rising trepidation in her chest, when her thoughts were interrupted by her brother.

“Hey Maddie! You should bring me back a piece of the Astral Shard!” Any other time she would’ve dismissed it as her brother being obnoxious, but as she turned to face him, the blue rays of the Portal accentuating the angles of his face, she realized that this was his way of being well-meaning. She offered him a genuine smile.

“Sure, Mace.”

She’d stepped into the Portal.

Madeline remembers the days that she had a slight phobia of quantum travel, when the possibility of disappearing into a hyperspace corridor and never returning had made her stomach twist. Now, she almost finds it fascinating-being whisked away by her own pocket of space, only to emerge and see the world anew.

It was nighttime in Nova Luce when she arrived. Her first instinct as she stepped out of the Portal was to walk carefully, with her ankles elevated slightly. Her mom had told her that she had to make sure not to get dust on her new shoes before the rotation. To Madeline’s astonishment, however, the cobblestones beneath her open toed sandals didn’t even boast a speck of dust- just cool granite imbued with circuits, glowing with the light of stars themselves.

It would be many moons before Madeline would see her hometown again.

\---

Madeline wakes up in a cold sweat.

Dawn has painted its first light against frost-covered windows, creeping through the glass panes like tendrils of a golden vine. She exhales audibly, and flips on the switch at her bedside that will warm the room before she has to emerge from her toasty covers.

Madeline’s fingers dust over the comb she’d gotten for her birthday, which is inlaid with abalone and shimmers like oil on water. Abalone is considered a precious mineral in her country, in this time, but her mother had only drawn the ornament out of the dusty chest with a smile, recalling memories of her youth, of sun-kissed water that reflected jade green and hid organic coral beneath its sparkling depths. 

Magic, Madeline thinks, and the word falls from her lips as if out of habit as she carefully smoothes down her unruly hair and twists it, clipping it into a secure bun at the top of her head.

Madeline sloughs off her gown, pulling on a simple tunic over her slip and securing socks on her freezing feet. After having prepared for the day, she heads downstairs, already caught up with the thoughts of the day as she spreads butter on bread. 

Being self-sufficient in the morning is somewhat of a necessity, what with how hectic her family’s schedule has become in recent years, and Madeline is of the age and responsibility where she can be trusted to be held accountable for herself. She is sixteen, after all- two years past Fides’ required age to begin working, but still four years too early to move out onto one of the designated land plots for young citizens.

She makes it out the door with a hum on her lips, the wind lightly tousling the two strands of hair she intentionally left out of the bun.

\---

Nova Luce is brilliant, with its coiffed architecture and luminescent glows: a utopia perched on a throne of water, the sleek silver edges of the city bleeding into the sapphires at the horizon line, the circular layout of the city crowned with its multiple towers as proud and forlorn as six fallen stars. It almost hurts her eyes to look.

Madeline timidly takes a seat at one of the heated benches, waiting patiently for the next bus. Walking hadn’t seemed plausible, what with the blur of faces and too-long legs and shiny briefcases of the bustling adults around her, and the twisting and turning narrow corridors that made for a labyrinthine jewel of a city. She knew her mom would rather her spend a little money just to ensure her safety.

When the bus finally arrives with a puff of mist, Madeline quickly boards, pressing her thumb onto the designated sensor at the door so that the transaction will be charged in her name. She takes a seat near the front of the bus and represses a sigh, settling comfortably on the memory foam seats.

“Destination,” the bus driver queries almost mechanically, reclining in his seat and giving her a pointed look.

“Umm,” Madeline starts, having been caught by surprise. She is suddenly very grateful that her “cheat sheet” is tucked carefully into her sleeve, which displays in neat print the name, address and topographic details of her destination. “Spero Academy, if you would.”

The bus driver gives a bored nod of affirmation, probably having been long occupied with students going back and forth during the Academy during their fall break, and returns to the wheel: leaving Madeline with silence and the cool opacity of night shrouding the nearly empty bus. 

She spends her time in solace quietly, contemplatively, hoping to the darkness that the next day will go successfully or at the very least not disastrously. After she reaches her designated room and collapses in a heap of exhaustion, much of the hours of night echo same sentiment, as Madeline curls into the academy’s linen covers and thinks of stories of magic and valor to slide into the lull of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> For Madeline (Made2352), who continues to be a dearer friend than I could ever deserve, and who I hope will still contend with my general jerkishness even into the future.


End file.
